


Nom De Guerre

by ckret2



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Gen, M/M, Shippy Gen, honestly except for 1 moment of accidental flirting it IS gen, read it whichever way you want??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 17:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16876839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ckret2/pseuds/ckret2
Summary: Dinobot wants to know what Rattrap’s name was back on Cybertron. Somehow that segues into Rattrap learning about Dinobot’s surprise Autobot idols.





	Nom De Guerre

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xraybeeb](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=xraybeeb).



> In exchange for some art at TFCon, I promised xraybeeb on tumblr some DinoTrap! They’re still at the awkward pretending-they-don’t-like-each-other stage because, it turns out, I just wanted to write banter.

Rattrap was almost back to base, at the end of his patrol, when he saw someone standing on top of the  _Axalon_ , silhouetted against the night sky. "Hey! What—?!" He skidded to a stop, transforming and looking up at the mysterious bot. "Who—? Oh. HEY, CHOPPERFACE!"

Dinobot's gaze lowered from the stars to Rattrap.

"Stop melodramatically stargazin'! It's so dark out, I thought you were a Predacon!" He paused. "... A different Predacon!"

Faintly, Dinobot yelled back, "Come and make me stop!"

"I'm n—"

"Unless you're a coward!"

Rattrap let out a long sigh that he hoped was loud enough for Dinobot to hear from the top of the ship. And then commed Optimus. "Hey, boss bot—I'm back from patrol, buuut I'm not comin' in just yet. Dinobot's on top of the ship and I've gotta go wittily banter him to death. If I start screamin', send backup."

It took a couple of minutes for Rattrap to find a route to scale the  _Axalon_  and reach Dinobot's position. Dinobot wasn't even waiting for him—he was sitting cross-legged on the far side of the ship, facing away. "Okay,  _reptile._  Challenge accepted and defeated. Now get off the stupid—"

"What did you go by," Dinobot said, "back on Cybertron?"

Rattrap stopped, staring at Dinobot's back. "... Did you call me all the way up here just t'ask me my real name?!"

"No. I started wondering while waiting for you to  _laboriously_  scale the ship."

"Ooh, you condescendin'..." Rattrap muttered invectives as he stomped up behind Dinobot. "I oughta kick you off the side."

"I would be delighted to see you try."

Of course, he didn't. Instead, he stopped beside Dinobot, surveying the view. Eh. It wasn't bad, he supposed.

"Rattletrap."

Dinobot looked at him, clearly waiting for him to elaborate; but Rattrap didn't know what elaboration he wanted, so he said what anyone would say after introducing their name: "Nice t'meet you."

Dinobot snorted, shoulders jerking.

Rattrap sat down beside Dinobot, legs stretched out in front of him. "I know, it's just one syllable off from what I got now." Rattrap had no idea what Dinobot's basis of comparison was—he didn't know what any of the  _Darksyde_ ’s crew had gone by, aside from the fact that their illustrious and big-headed leader had been alias "Megatron" for decades—but out of the original  _Axalon_  crew, Rattrap had stayed closer to his original name than any of the other Maximals. "But, eh—I'm attached to my name, y'know? Rattletrap suits me. It's..." He trailed off. He'd never had to describe his name before; it was like trying to describe his own transformation sequence.

"Unreliable? Rickety? In poor health?"

"Unassumin'," Rattrap snapped. "You can get a whole lot done while people are busy underestimatin' you because you've got a name that makes you sound like a jalopy."

"Your very name is an act of subterfuge." Dinobot sniffed disdainfully and looked away from Rattrap at last, surveying the quiet night. "Dishonorable. But, I suppose, effective. For someone like you."

"Tch, you flatterer." Rattrap leaned back, settling himself on his elbows. Oh yeah, this was gonna be a long banter. He could feel it. "How 'bout you? Who were you on Cybertron?"

"Dinobot."

Rattrap gave him a surprised look. "No kiddin'? Before you were a 'raptor?"

"Yes. My organic beast mode was fortuitous. In fact I named myself Dinobot long ago."

Named  _himself._  Huh. "I figure you're named after...?"

"The Dinobots who fought at the end of the Great War, yes. I consider them my role models."

"Really!" Rattrap scooted over so he could roll onto one side, giving Dinobot his full attention. "You don't say! Oh, I want to hear  _all about_  how the  _Dinobots_  are role models."

"You mock me."

"Nooo. Me? Never," Rattrap said mockingly.

Dinobot snarled at him. "The Dinobots are consummate warriors! They are aggressive, direct, indefatigable—"

"Probably don't know what 'indefatigable' means."

Dinobot swiped threateningly at Rattrap. "Honest. Fearless. Loyal to their own, and they make no pretenses of loyalty to those they don't consider their own. And they carried those ideals with them everywhere—no matter in whose company they found themselves, and no matter how little others understood their ideals."

And something about the way Dinobot said that made Rattrap uncomfortably aware of how much he was one of those people who didn't get Dinobot's ideals. Not, he reminded himself, that he  _wanted_  to get them—they were, after all, Predacon ideals—but, still... Still.  _Still._

Had to be lonely, Rattrap supposed.

"They embody a nobility of character which I can only aspire to match," Dinobot concluded.

Rattrap nodded slowly, taking in that analysis. "... They're also dumber than a bag of rocks."

He expected another swipe for that. Instead, Dinobot said, wryly, "You'll notice that, in listing their virtues, I did not include intelligence."

Rattrap laughed. "Okay! Okay, fair," he said. "You uh—you do know that your heroes were also  _Autobots_ , right?"

Dinobot gave Rattrap an exasperated look. And then sat up straighter. "What are you—? Stop posing like that! You look ridiculous!"

"Wha—?" At some point, as Rattrap listened to Dinobot wax poetic about Dinobots, he had ended up laying on his side with one hand propping up his cheek and the other arm draped across his waist. He  _did_  look ridiculous. Flustered, he sat straight up again. "I— W— Don't change the topic! What kinda role models are a pack of Autobots for a big bad Pred, huh?"

"You insult them by calling them Autobots." Dinobot was back to staring at the horizon, refusing to look at Rattrap. "Perhaps they wore the Autobot badge—but they were never given Autobot coding. In behavior—in spirit—although they fought for the Autobots, in their sparks they were Decepticon."

"They tell you that themselves, or are you just projectin'?"

"Have you nothing else to contribute but critical snark?!"

"Well I can't contribute saucy poses anymore, can I?" But all right, maybe he should tone it down. This was... actually an intriguing side to Dinobot. The Predacon that venerates Autobots.

Dinobot gave him a dark look. "They were detested by their teammates. Loathed. That's  _not_  projecting."

Rattrap swallowed a half dozen snappy replies. "Yeah? I heard they were hard to get on with, but..."

"It's the truth. The Autobots who fought alongside them distrusted them. They saw them as burdens—mere berserkers to be unleashed on the enemy, and then tolerated and contained until the next battle. They were utilized for their innate combat capabilities without being  _respected_  for them. In many ways... the Autobots' treatment of the Dinobots was a model for the Maximals' later treatment of Predacons."

Once again, Rattrap felt far more conscious than he wanted to be of how little he knew about what went on in Dinobot's head—in Dinobot's  _life_ —or any other Predacon's, for that matter. True, he still didn't want to know the first thing about what regularly passed through, say, Megatron's mind, or Waspinator's, or—eesh— _Tarantulas's_ —but... times like this, when Rattrap was being honest with himself, he kinda felt like he was missing out on something, not being able to guess what Dinobot was thinking.

... He didn't want to linger on that for too long. "So. Who's your fave?"

"Grimlock!" Dinobot said it instantly, as though he'd been just waiting to be asked. "The greatest fighter! Before I permanently adopted the nom de guerre 'Dinobot,' for years I went by 'Grim' in his honor."

"It suits ya." Maybe it didn't suit him  _right then,_  though—he was gushing like a newbuild talking about their favorite pop star.

"He should h— _thank_  you." Dinobot actually sounded like he meant it. (He probably hadn’t heard that before, had he? What kind of nerve did he have to have to be a Predacon among Predacons going by an Autobot’s name? Rattrap was beginning to suspect that Dinobot had been lonely long before he’d surrounded himself by Maximals.) "He should have assumed the mantle of Autobot leadership. There was an opportunity, when Optimus Prime fell in combat to Megatron. The Autobots should have recognized that, with the Decepticons in full control of Cybertron and the Autobots only holding back a few off-world garrisons, they were in desperate need of a new style of leadership. The Matrix of Leadership should have been offered to Grimlock—he would have ruled the Autobots as a warrior-king!"

"And... this woulda been a good thing or a bad thing for your Decepticon ancestors?"

"Ah—well..." Dinobot shrugged, an uncharacteristically casual gesture, and quickly moved on. "Whoever won, he would at least have shown the Decepticons more respect than the likes of  _Rodimus Prime._  Which is the same reason he  _wasn't_  selected. The Autobots could no more appreciate Grimlock's virtues than they could a Decepticon—for they, unlike he, were not born warriors. For all their combat training, they were mere..." he let out a lizardy snarl of derision, " _cccivil ssservants._ "

"Aaand..." Oh, Rattrap was having too much fun with this. "Assumin' he  _did_  get the Matrix, what was his name gonna be?"

Without hesitation, Dinobot replied, "Tyrannimus Prime." He raised his voice over Rattrap's peals of laughter. "Stop that!  _I_  didn't come up with it!"

"Wh-who did?!" Rattrap was flat on his back laughing. "Oh—oh, man—don't tell me you Preds have worked out all the details of a whole alternate history where Grimlock lead the Autobots!"

Dinobot was silent for an embarrassingly long time. And then mumbled, "It's not  _just_  Predacons—"

Rattrap cracked up again.

The stars in his peripheral vision were blocked; Dinobot was walking away. Rattrap immediately stopped laughing. "H-hey!" He rolled over, got to his feet, and trotted after Dinobot. "Hey, come back, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed. It's—it's just surprising to me—and I mean, maybe I don't  _get_  it, but—hey, everyone's got hobbies."

Dinobot didn't stop.

Rattrap sighed. Oh, boy, he'd messed that up. How was he gonna fix this? "... I learned to fight from Arcee."

Dinobot stopped walking.

"Dunno how much you know 'bout Maximals, but we still get mandatory military training. In case..." Even though Dinobot wasn't looking, Rattrap gestured vaguely in the direction of the  _Darksyde._  "In case. I was under... pfft, I don't remember his name now. One of the Protectobots. But I wanted to learn from Arcee. I fought tooth 'n' claw to get that transfer."

"Arcee," Dinobot said slowly, "is one of the finest warriors the Autobots ever produced."

"And unassumin'," Rattrap said. "The kinda person you underestimate until it's too late."

Finally, Dinobot turned back to Rattrap. "I have heard tales of her kindness, gentleness, and civility—right up until she eliminates her enemy. Are they true?" 

"All true," Rattrap nodded. "She was the sweetest 'bot you'd ever meet—'til she wasn't."

"Hmmm." Dinobot surveyed Rattrap critically. "She taught you so little."

"'Ey!" He elbowed Dinobot. Good, they were back to normal. "Siddown and look at the stars again, reptile breath, I'm already sick of lookin' up at you."

Dinobot bent over and snorted in Rattrap's face—Rattrap made exaggerated gagging sounds—but he did march back to his original spot and sit again. "I don't relish the idea of you looking  _down_  at me, either.  _Sit._ "

Rattrap flopped back down. "As you command,  _Tyrannimus._ "

Dinobot shoved him over as Rattrap laughed. But it was, for Dinobot, a gentle shove. Rattrap should call him Tyrannimus more often. Maybe not around the others; that'd take a little too much explaining. "Either be quiet or tell me more about Arcee."

"Fine, fine! Whaddaya wanna know?"

"Is it true that she paints herself with energon?"

"You know—I was always a little too scared to ask."

"Well, what did she smell like?"

" _Excuse_  me?"

"You can tell if paint is energon-based from how it smells when it's warm, and Cybertronian bodies are almost always warm enough to activate the—"

" _Why do you know this?_ "

It was another half hour before they were interrupted by Silverbolt, who had, apparently, been sent outside to ensure that Dinobot and Rattrap hadn't been kidnapped by Predacons and/or quietly murdered each other. By the time they were back inside, Dinobot was already radiating a surly "don't touch me, speak to me, or acknowledge that I possess a corporeal form on this mortal plane" aura; nobody spoke until he'd disappeared down the hall to his quarters.

Once he was well out of audial shot, Optimus asked Rattrap what in the world had kept them outside so long.

Rattrap shrugged. What  _had_  they talked about, really? Dinobots and alternate history and basic training? "He wanted to know my real name."

**Author's Note:**

> Also on tumblr [here](http://ckret2.tumblr.com/post/180849635387/nom-de-guerre).


End file.
